


The Smile

by LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife



Series: Shield Wolf [14]
Category: No Offence (TV)
Genre: Double Entendres, F/M, Love, Romance, Yes Really, just to keep Randolph happy, no smut for a change, silliness, there are MENTIONS of smutty goings on though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife/pseuds/LastNightFanfictionSavedMyLife
Summary: Professor Randolph Miller was a most handsome man, but, dear Lord, those beauteous smiles of his would tempt the most angelic of angels down from heaven to gladly live a life of wicked debauchery.Featuring That Smile (TM).-I blame the plot bunnies - they made me do it!Based upon 'No Offence' a most excellent channel 4 police procedural series. Seriously, it's brilliant, go watch it!Professor Randolph Miller is truly an amazing character who reminds me of a uni tutor I had.A loving, not smutty (gasp!), one-shot, set sometime after series three has ended.Please heed warnings and tags and notes etc before reading.-Alright Bambinos, please read and enjoy!Kudos and Comments always greatly appreciated.
Relationships: Randolph Miller/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Shield Wolf [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978786
Comments: 5
Kudos: 1





	The Smile

**Author's Note:**

> I SHALL BE PERSONALLY FILLING THIS TAG UP WITH ALL THE RANDOLPH MILLER LOVELINESS! 
> 
> BWAHAHAHA!

_Where was he?_ She craned her neck, scrutinising the spacious open-plan office, checking who was there, or not. 

No Miller. 

Not that she really needed to _look_ to check, she could usually _hear_ him first. He travelled through any room he was in like a raucous, exuberant tornado. Flinging out sarcastic comments, lewd suggestions and humorous observations instead of the cows, barnyards and trucks of a normal, boring mesocyclone.

She stood, squinting her eyes, peering through the slatted blinds that partially obscured the windows of Inspection Deering's office. The lights were off. No Deering and no Miller. _Where was the wretched man?_ She phoned him - it rang, then went straight to voicemail. She hung up in frustration, not bothering to leave a message. Her brow furrowed. _What was he up to?_ He'd promised to meet her here at five and it was already twenty minutes past. _Maybe he was caught up with something in his office?_ That man had no sense of time when he got wrapped up in his work. Decision made, she hastily scribbled a note to leave on her keyboard, on the off-chance that he showed up while she was out searching for him. She grabbed her bag and coat, ran through the office, and down the stairs. Darting around the others as they headed up or down, not caring for or heeding their shouts of 'oi!' and 'watch out!'.

She skidded to a halt outside his office door. Closed. She rattled the handle. Locked. She banged on it loudly with her fist. No reply.

He sometimes had a kip in there if he'd been working late. She'd recently placed a blanket and some pillows in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet precisely for when he did that, with carefully worded instructions to make sure he bloody-well used them. All because of how he'd once collapsed in a messy heap on his chair in complete exhaustion after a particularly long night shift. Resting his head in an exceptionally awkward position on his desk. It hadn't bothered him at the time, he was too tired to care, but they'd _both_ paid the price afterwards. He'd had to suffer a week-long cricked neck, and she'd had to suffer a week-long barrage of his snappy, waspish temper. She found it completely overwhelming seeing him in any sort of pain. Going into overdrive trying to nurse or comfort him. He revelled in the extra attention she lavished upon him, never having been the recipient of such before. 

She checked her phone again, as he usually texted her to say that he was going to get his head down for a while. Nothing different from when she'd checked the last time, less than five minutes ago. 

"Randolph! Are you in there?" she shouted and knocked again. Pressing her ear against the door, listening for any noises. Silence.

_Maybe he's in his secret lair?_ she pondered. He had a small lab area in the station. Last chance, if he wasn't there, then she didn't know what to do! 

It was located in the bowels of the station, so the phone reception was dodgy at the best of times. _That must be the answer! He must be locked away down there and had forgotten the time!_ It wouldn't be the first instance that she'd had to collect him from his little den, when he'd lost track of all external eventualities.

She would sometimes bring a laptop down and keep him company if he was sequestered away there for the duration. It was a secluded area of the station that not many knew about. She could happily get on with any work that warranted her full attention. Away from the hustle and bustle and cacophony of the open-plan office upstairs. Unfortunately, she suffered other distractions while there. Namely him. 

She'd always be drawn to his seductive presence. Peeking over the top of her laptop screen, her work forgotten, her focus locked on Randolph instead. He pulled at her attention like a siren of old drew in unaware sailors. If he was particularly engrossed in something, his tongue would poke out from between his lips. _That wicked tongue!_ She would sit there, her hands frozen over her keyboard, her breath speeding, watching him, mesmerised by the pink flesh peering out from his mouth. She'd end up squirming in her chair and having to squeeze her thighs together as her core became heated at the thought of all the wanton wickedness he could unleash with that glorious tongue. She'd have to hastily look away and try desperately to re-concentrate on her work. But it was usually a lost cause by then. He had some kind of 'second sight' that allowed him to almost always notice her heated stares. Catching her eyes, seeing her face brimmed full of need. He'd then flash her a toothy, wolfish grin, pause in his work and stalk slowly towards her. It was safe to say that neither of them got much work done after that.

She reached the corridor where his lab was situated, running down it's length, to the end, where his hidey hole was placed. His secret lab. They'd joked about it, how he already had the swivel chair, he just needed to grow a mustache to twirl. He'd grinned at her, saying he'd already got a pussy to stroke, so that one was also ticked off the list. They'd laughed for weeks at that, trading lewd double entendres that no one but themselves were amused by. Honestly, no one in this place got their stupid childish humour. Just as well probably... 

They were in the canteen for breakfast a while back, when one of the female officers on the table behind them was blathering on, in her foghorn voice, about her weekend gardening work. All banal, tedious stuff, until she had mentioned how overgrown her bush was. Randolph stilled. His fork, full of food, stopped in mid air, halfway up to his mouth. He'd turned to her, a massive grin plastered across his face, his eyes crinkled with amusement at seeing her already red face and shaking shoulders. He nudged her. She shook her head rapidly, biting her lip in an attempt to stop her laughter from escaping. The woman carried on, now complaining about how it took her all afternoon to trim her huge, overgrown bush down to size. Randolph had the misfortune to be taking a sip from his mug of tea at that particular point in time. He coughed his tea out and Bea squeaked, clamping her hands over her mouth. Then, the woman tutted about how she'd had to sharpen her shears _three whole times_ to get the job finished. Well, that was it! They were both gone, crying with fits of laughter. They'd garnered a slew of funny looks and disapproving frowns, but they didn't care. Randolph had slapped the table, announcing in between guffaws, that it was 'off to gladiator school for the both of them now'. That just set them both off again, howling with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.

He also said that he'd buy her a yellow boiler suit with the word 'Minion' on the back for his evil genius secret lab. But she'd shook her head, saying that she'd not be wearing that, thank you very much. Stating that it was far too much hard work to have to completely disrobe herself every time she needed a pee or if he got frisky. She shrugged, announcing that he couldn't have her in a boiler suit AND have a pussy sat on his lap to stroke while he was in his swivel chair. He'd snickered at that. Dragging her onto his lap as he sat in said swivel chair. Showing her just what an evil supervillain he was!

The door to his lab was half open, she peered her head round tentatively, slowly edging around, not quite entering the room. Gripping the door handle so tightly her knuckles went white - revealing her anxiety. Half dreading what she'd do if he wasn't there, half praying that he was.

"Randolph?" she called out.

"Yes, love?" his shouted reply. 

_Thank God!_ She closed her eyes and sent a silent thanks upwards. Slowly releasing the breath she'd held in after calling out his name. She smiled, relief written on her face, and unlocked her fingers from the door handle, flexing them to relieve the tension she'd held there. 

She peered around the door. _Ah… There he was. The most beautiful man to ever live!_ She had been accused of being blind - her love for him causing her to be biased. But she didn't give a shit! He was beautiful in her eyes. 

He was leaning forwards over the lab bench, a soldering iron poised in his hand. The disassembled pieces of some not quite identifiable piece of electronic kit spread out in front of him. 

"I won't be long, love. I just need to finish this, then I'm all yours," he said, sending her a brief fleeting glance, then returning his attention back to his task, moving his head down, bending over his work.

"That's ok Wolfie, we've a bit of time," she smiled at him. He revelled in his work, often becoming so engrossed in it that he'd lose track of everything, the time, the day even. But she loved his dedication, admired him for it and would never willingly disturb him. She tried her best to actively support him in everything he needed or asked of her for help. Often going out of her way to aid him in the completion of one of his varied, ever important, tasks. It was why she was here after all. Her work role dictated that she help him, but she felt compelled to aid him further. Making sure he took breaks and ate, and keeping him company when he laboured late at night weren't part of her job description. But they were what you did if you loved someone, as she loved him.

She crept over to a chair and sat, watching him work. Something that would ever fascinate her. 

She pondered on what he was working on. Using a hairdryer to dry the, whatever it was, out. _A mobile phone maybe?_ She squinted, _an old one from the looks of it._ He had his set of micro screwdrivers, a magnifying glass, and a soldering iron all spread out in front of him. 

She moved her eyes around his workbench. He'd taught her the long, complicated names of all the random lab equipment that was littered around his bench in this little lab. Universal containers, all lined up in a rack. Another rack, this time full of eppendorf microcentrifuge tubes, rested on a stilled agitator. A stack of agar plates. Variable pipettes, hanging from a carousel. Even a couple of developed x-rays were lying on his bench. Another was hanging from a light box on the wall. Two books were laid in the corner of the bench, open at what seemed to her, to be random pages, but were probably extremely important to him. She had learned early on not to close or move them, or anything in here. He had his own way of doing things that seemed just plain messy to others, but worked perfectly fine for him. 

The room itself had one wall entirely covered, floor to ceiling, in books and scientific journals. He'd a whole section stuffed full of journals that he'd contributed to. He'd proudly shown her them, nervously watching for her reaction, delightedly grinning at her loving appraisal of his achievements. She had absolutely no idea on the subject matter, but would often open them to find his name in black and white at the very top, the lead contributor. She'd smile, running her finger along the print, ever amazed by his acute cleverness. 

There were erlenmeyer flasks also sitting on the bookshelves, one with pens and a scalpel sticking out from it. Various other odds and ends littered the shelves, including a timer and some monstrous holiday ornaments. His certificates and qualifications were framed and hung on the wall behind him. She'd asked him about them and he'd shyly dismissed them, but she'd noted how they were one of the very few things in his office that were always clear of dust.

The only light was from a computer monitor in the corner and two circular daylight lamps which were clamped to his workbench. Their light danced over his handsome face, throwing their illumination across him in a most pleasant way. He had a stern face at rest, his brow often wrinkled in concentration or consternation at whatever task he was engrossed in. He was doing the former right now, completely focused on his current job at hand. 

She swept her gaze over his face, taking the rare opportunity, where he was still for more than five microseconds, to study him in fine detail. 

His expressive eyebrows, those alone could be used to reveal his flitting emotions, raising one in query, or furrowing them in confusion or anger at some idiot that had annoyed him. He definitely didn't suffer fools gladly! His sparkling eyes could be so mischievous. Often twinkling in amusement when turned towards her if he'd seen or overhead something that he knew she'd delight in sharing with him. They could be so dark and lustful! They could pin her to the spot, telling her, with just a piercing look, exactly what he wanted to do to her. Other times, they would flash with anger, a warning of the impending thunderstorm about to be unleashed upon the unwary recipient. She'd only been that poor unfortunate a couple of times, after first starting here. When she'd not known the correct protocol for something and had got herself into serious trouble. His anger towards her stupidity for not coming to him first was as overwhelming, but also as fleeting, as a late summer storm. A vast, vociferous deluge of shouting and swearing, quickly followed by the beautiful rainbows and brightest sunshine of being held in his warm embrace, her face peppered with butterfly kisses. All accompanied by heartfelt apologies for his angry words, explaining that he was only angry because he was deathly scared that she'd be sacked. She fervently promised to heed his teachings in all things to do with the intricate labyrinth that was a fact of working in the public sector.

Her gaze continued onwards onto his masculine jawline, his strong chin, the shallow dip in its centre often obscured by stubble, as it was now. Her attention traveled onto the round apples of his cheeks. She adored touching the soft skin there, feeling the contrast between the smoothness of his cheekbones and his ever stubble covered lower cheeks. She loved to cup his face there tenderly, or to run her fingernails through the scratchy hair on his cheek, up and down his long sideburns, then down his jawline. Following it along, to the point of his chin then up to his soft lips. Tracing around them until he caught her finger with his teeth. He was ever amused at her wanting to always drop loving kisses onto the tip of his perfect nose. She sucked in a breath when her focus shifted to those damnably kissable, immoral lips of his. Those lips that could undo her completely with a single, well placed kiss. Those lips that could whisper lewd promises in her ear, causing her to blush and him to smirk proudly at causing her to do so. 

His glasses had slipped down his nose, as they usually did. He was forever pushing at the bridge of them with a finger, moving them back to where he wasn't partially staring through the frame. When he'd looked up at her, when she'd announced her presence earlier, she'd noticed how he'd looked at her over his frames. She always smiled when he did that, looking like a cute schoolboy up to no good. Which he generally was, up to no good, that is.

A lock of his hair had fallen forwards, escaped from his usual slicked back, tidy style. Her fingers twitched as she itched to reach up and push it back into place. Any excuse to touch his soft hair. She loved to run her fingers over his head, making him close his eyes and sigh contentedly. A happy, sleepy wolf curled up in her lap. Not that he ever stayed asleep for long when his head was down there.

He was more stubbly than usual. Maybe two days worth of growth at least? His cheeks would be deliciously scratchy but annoyingly tickly. Causing her to vacillate between begging him for more and squeaking for him to stop when he kissed her. Wherever he kissed her...

He was still wearing his mac, he'd not bothered to remove it when arriving at his, not so secret lab. Not a workaholic, but someone who loved to get caught up in the nitty gritty of any interesting task that was thrown his way. Or even just volunteering his services if he sniffed out something particularly intriguing, just like a more sweary, less dribbly truffle hound. Often choosing the tasks that others would find dull and tedious, but ones he revelled in. Getting a smug mental boost from solving them when knowing full well that no-one else could. 

She bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing a giggle as she watched him stick his tongue out as he leant in closer, concentrating on checking the connections in the phone with an electrical screwdriver.

She must have made a louder noise than she'd thought, as he paused to look up at her. 

He rocked back and forth where he stood, leaning forwards against the bench, where he was resting on his forearms. His left arm was folded in against his body, that hand hidden, curled up and tucked into his right elbow. His right hand played with the screwdriver, tilting it back and forth as he looked up at her. His face was set to neutral, his mouth neither downturned nor smiling, his eyes unfocused, a faraway look of concentration. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your work," she apologised. Not wanting to break his chain of thought.

"That's ok love, I think this phone's probably fucked anyway," he sighed.

"Lucky phone," she replied swiftly, a corner of her mouth ticking up in a smirk.

He blinked at her. _A challenge?_ he thought. His lips travelled upwards slowly. Lighting him up, transforming his neutral work face into something more playful. His lips curled up, revealing one of his beautiful, mischievous smiles that she adored so very much. His smile travelled onwards, up to his eyes, causing them to twinkle impishly. That self same smile issued silent, wicked promises, returning her challenge with one of his own. Promises of what he'd do to her later when they'd eventually escape back to his house. Or maybe before, if she was lucky.

He threw the screwdriver down on the bench and straightened himself up, drawing his body up to his full height, never taking his eyes away from hers. He paused, changing his face again. Lifting one side of his mouth higher, and opening his lips, revealing a toothy, lupine grin. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he stared at her. 

"Is that so, love?"

He took two slow steps towards her, a wolf stalking its intended prey.

"Oh yes, Wolfie," she replied, holding his stare, matching his wicked grin with her lopsided smirk. "It's a very lucky phone to be fucked by you..." She wasn't quite the innocent doe when it was just they two, away from everyone else watching.

He continued his slow approach. Eventually reaching her, he leant down, placing his hands either side of her on the arms of the chair that she was sitting in. Framing her, caging her in. Moving his face lower, so that his lips were a hair's breadth away from her ear.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Bea, but I'll not be fucking you anytime soon," his breath tickled her ear as he spoke, sending shivers straight down to her already molten core.

"Oh?" she asked.

He chuckled at the wobbly, confused tone of her voice.

"No love. We never fuck. We are intimate with each other, we make out, fool around, sleep together, we make mad passionate love! We most certainly do not ever just fuck!" he moved, rubbing his nose in her hair, dropping a small kiss on the shell of her ear.

"Oh. I'm most sorry, Wolfie. My sincerestmost apologies for my most egregious mistake! Whatever can I do to make it up to you?" she released a mewling moan as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He chuckled and moved his head back, staring into her eyes, noting how dark her pupils were. He lifted the corners of his mouth upwards, sending another delicious smile towards her.

"Well now. For so rudely interrupting my work here. Twice. And, also for accusing me of just fucking like a wild beast! Well... There's really only one remedial course of action you can take..."

"Oh?" 

"Yes, love," he kissed the tip of her nose and stood back up. "You can tidy all that lot up," he thumbed at the bench behind him, "I'm off down the pub!"

"Hey!" she stood up and swatted at him. "You bloody evil git," she laughed.

"Ow! Watch my war wounds, love!" He complained, pulling her into one of his loving bear hugs.

"You don't have any war wounds... Do you?" she squinted up at him, tilting her head sideways. She extricated her hands from where he'd crushed them against him, moving them up his chest and lacing them around his neck, setting her fingers to play with the short hair at his nape.

"Yes I do, love," he leaned down, his lips moving towards hers, "there's the lovebite you left just above my left nipple last week!" he sucked in a breath, dramatically closing his eyes and shaking his head. "It still pains me to this day. I'm not sure I'll pull through. I may need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," he opened one eye, hearing her giggle, then the other eye opened. He grinned down at her, leaning down to playfully swipe her nose with his.

"Oh dear. A difficult task, but I'll try my best," she giggled, "just because it's you, my very sillymost Wolfie!" she reached up on tiptoes and captured his lips with hers.

Before their kissing got too heated, he pulled back.

"Come on love, let's away. I've had enough of staring at these bloody four walls! I need a soft bed to lie in, with you all sweaty and naked underneath me," he said.

She laughed. "You forgot, didn't you?"

_Oh god! Her birthday? An anniversary? Shit, shit, bloody shittingwell shit!_

"Er… your birthday?"

She giggled at his open mouth and wide eyes that gave away his internal panic. 

"It's nothing like that Randolph," she cupped one of his cheeks, "we're supposed to be going round to Inspector Deering's place to help her redecorate. She asked for willing participants to help, not wanting those awful builders traipsing through her place again. And you volunteered us. We were supposed to be leaving at 5. She promised to feed us in return for our labour."

"Bollocks!" he shouted vehemently, checking his wrist watch. Six pm. "Come on then my oh so sexy minion! We'd best get going or we'll never hear the bloody end of it. I'll text Viv when we're in the cab. Telling her that we're late because you handcuffed me to the bench down here and wouldn't let me go until you'd had your wicked way with me. Twice!" 

"Ha! Well, she'll never believe that!"

"Why's that love?" he said as he released her to begin unplugging everything he'd been using just now. "If it's because she thinks you're all sweet innocence, then she doesn't know you very well," he paused. "Or me!" he winked at her, as he rushed around his bench, shoving the tools into a box.

"No Randolph. Not that... Twice?"

"You cheeky cow! How very dare you! It has been known to happen, as you well know!" he leered at her from the bench where he was switching the lamps off. "Come on then. Viv's first. Punishment later. But only if you're a good minion." 

"When am I ever not?" 

"Touché!"

He slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing to lock the door on their way out, grabbing her hand as they rushed along. 

They travelled through the rabbit warren of Friday Street, caught up in their own little world, as was the norm for them. Excluding all around them by default as they flung their usual mix of in-jokes, smutty comments, love declarations and work observations back and forth, between the two of them. Their heads were naturally drawn towards each other as they conversed. If they had space or time, he'd wrap an arm around her back to bring her closer as they walked. This wasn't the case though now. Instead, their haste meant that their interwoven fingers, a hand held between them, was their anchor. 

They changed tactics, switching to non-verbal communication as they approached the stairs. Each not willing to relinquish hold of the other while winding up the narrow staircase, with the obstacles of others travelling up and down to negotiate. This was where Randolph came into his own, leading the way. His exuberant arm waving and vociferous shouts of 'move!', 'watch out!', 'coming through!' serving as pre-warning for everyone else of their impending approach. He threaded himself around everyone, dragging her along in his wake. Reveling in using his bluster and bravado to cleave a path for her. Periodically glancing back over his shoulder, sending her a smug glance at this, his most excellent prowess in clearing her way, just like a chivalrous knight for his lady love. She sent him her thanks and appreciation by rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. Sometimes she had to squeeze his hand tightly, a signal for him to slow down as he got carried away in his enjoyable task. He delighted in taking control like this. He was in his element, overjoyed at having someone, _her_ , to take care of. He sent one of his most bewitching smiles back towards her as they reached the top of the stairs, causing her breath to hitch. He was a most handsome man, but, dear Lord, these beauteous smiles of his would tempt the most angelic of angels down from heaven to gladly live a life of wicked debauchery. 

He pulled her off to the side, out of the fast flow of people trying to escape work for the day. He positioned his hands on either side of her face and placed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. 

He was all over the top hand waving, face contorting mannerisms, loving to grandstand and show off his intelligence. His extrovert, headlong, unrestrained ways were, usually the polar opposite of her more quiet, considered ones. But he let his softer, gentler side shine through more often recently, just like now.

"You'll have to contain your lust until we get home tonight, love," he spoke quietly, taking her hands in his, brushing his thumbs over them. "After we've been worked to within an inch of our lives doing Viv's bidding," he smiled down at her, knowing full well that it was him who would have the harder time containing himself. It wouldn't stop him from dropping the odd lingering touch or sneaking a kiss tonight though.

"That's ok Wolfie, I'm sure we'll make up for missed time later." She extricated one of her hands and lightly brushed his cheek, watching him close his eyes as she did so. Her hand dropped, reconnecting with his as they turned to make their way out.

"I did overhear her saying that she wanted to wallpaper the living room…" she glanced sideways at him, waiting for the explosion she knew would come after having lobbed that particular grenade.

"Fuck that! She's getting it fucking painted whether she fucking likes it or not!"

She giggled, covering her mouth with her free hand.

"What...? You...!" he turned towards her, his angry frown clearing, being replaced with a lopsided grin. He brought their joined hands upwards, placing a kiss to the back of hers.

"Well done, love. You got me good and proper. Don't get too cocky though. I will have my vengeance later," he winked at her.

"Promises, promises…" 

Their laughter and fast chattering chased them down the remaining corridors, out of the station and into a cab.

-

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The Incident in the canteen is based on something from Real Life (TM). Except it happened in the office, not the canteen. 
> 
> A colleague (who shall remain nameless) was sitting next to me regaling me with her topiary exploits. All I could see out of the corner of my eye was my old boss going BRIGHT RED as he tried to contain this mirth. This didn't help me much as I was hard pushed not to just laugh myself under the table! Yeah. My stupid silly sense of humour that no one else (apart from my old boss) understood. 
> 
> Carry On Up the Office!


End file.
